Princess Sultana's Daughters

and placed himself between
me and the brass pot I had decided to use against him.
    The will to battle left my body in a rush,
for there are times when I can think reasonably, and Kareem is
twice my size. Without a weapon, I am at a notable disadvantage and
once disarmed can be quickly overcome. Besides, it was best not to
escalate our disagreement into a brawl, for past experience had
taught me the impossibility of winning an argument with a drunken
Kareem. But my thoughts were filled with scorn, and I had
difficulty remembering why I had ever loved Kareem in the first
place.
    Wishing to avoid a useless confrontation, I
knew that I must recapture the favored position.
    I laughed, and said to Kareem, “Look at you!
You resemble an elephant who is threatening an ant!” I then smiled
at my husband and said that I was more than pleased he had returned
early, that I yearned for his companionship at a time of great
sorrow.
    Kareem was not at his mental prime and was
easily bested. Bewildered for a short moment by my change in
tactics, he eased into my trap and became overly remorseful for his
unthinking words, patting my shoulder, offering apologies, and
wonderin why his dear wife was distressed.
    I looked at my watch and saw that it was
nearly nine o’clock. Half insane with the knowledge that the
innocent child, Alhaan, would soon undergo female mutilation, I
instantly forgot all thoughts of myself, and with tremendous
sadness told my husband that there is no loveliness in life for
women and that in my mind it would be advantageous for all females
to die.
    Kareem could not fathom the reasoning behind
my dark ideas. He asked, was my life not perfect? Was there
anything I desired that my husband did not provide?
    Knowing that my main source of distress is
the social injustice directed toward women, he reminded me that
together we had ensured that in our home, our daughters felt little
of the prejudice that exists against females in our land. What more
could one man do, he wondered, than to guard those he loved.
    Kareem smiled sweetly and tenderly brushed my
lips with his fingers.
    I had a quick thought that Kareem was endowed with a winsome charm that atoned for his less admirable
traits.
    Unsure how to address the ambiguous issue of
my general dissatisfaction with the status of women, Kareem
announced that it was my inescapable destiny to be born in Saudi
Arabia, and in the end women must accept the limits imposed by our
culture. My husband reminded me that God knew all things, and His
purpose in planting my feet in Saudi soil had not been made known
to those bound on earth.
    My emotions in a whirl, I once again felt
dislike for Kareem, regretting that all men could not be turned
into women and live in our limited and often cruel world long
enough to attain under- standing. I wanted to rage at my husband’s
distance from my knowledge of the pain that women endure.
    How can woman bind man to the grief that
walks the earth and settles at the feet of each woman by turn?
Sensing the futility of longing for men to suffer women’s position
in society, while women enjoyed the status of male rank, I told
myself that I was too keyed up to be capable of a normal
conversation and suggested to my husband that we go to sleep early,
then rise refreshed to a day of new thoughts.
    Because he follows a set pattern of fighting
and then sleep after alcoholic drinking, Kareem agreed and
willingly prepared himself for bed, while I located the children
and gave instructions for them to eat their evening meal without us
and to be available with bags packed to depart Cairo in the
morning.
    By the time I returned to our quarters, my
husband had begun to breathe the deep, peaceful rhythms of one
already at rest.
    With my mind in conflict between my own
rebellious thoughts and Elham’s traditional beliefs, I considered
what Kareem had said, that I was a woman at odds with my fate. Yet,
in spite of my second-class status, I knew that I could never yield
to meek acceptance of female circumcision.
    Before falling into a troubled and
unsatisfying sleep, I vowed to myself that my fury over the fate of
girls such as Alhaan would outlive the barbaric custom that had
aroused it.
     

 
Monte Carlo
    “ To call women the weaker sex is a libel;
it is man’s injustice to women. You will guard your wife’s honor
and be not her master, but her true friend. Let not either of you
regard another as the object of his or her lust.”
    —MAHATMA